


Drinking Mad

by greenstuff



Series: This Never Happened [4]
Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 01:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenstuff/pseuds/greenstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a very hard day, Andy and Gail meet up at the Penny. What follows is something neither foresaw, and something they definitely will not be doing again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking Mad

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after 2x06 
> 
> I have been picking away at this story for about three years. Thank you to Whiz for reading through it and reassuring me that it makes sense despite the totally stunted, disjointed creation process. Continuing the theme of this series, I wanted to explore a sexual encounter that didn't happen, but reasonably could have within canon without changing anything we see on screen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Gail half stepped, half stumbled through the door. Beer in the parking lot had been followed by drinks at the Penny and she was feeling almost fuzzy headed enough to forget the entire horrendous day.

“Make yourself at home,” Andy said, gesturing to the shabby living room of her father's apartment. She thanked God, all the angels, and her lucky stars that her father had chosen this week to visit an old buddy in Ottawa. She knew she would have to tell him eventually, but preferably after she stopped wanting Luke dead. Tommy was not going to take this news well.

“Thanks,” Gail flopped on the couch without bothering to remove her shoes.

Andy set a forty of tequila on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to scrounge up a pair of shot glasses. Six months sober, Tommy didn't keep alcohol in the place, but she knew he'd held on to the souvenir shot glasses. Why exactly he needed to commemorate a visit to Niagara Falls or the CN Tower with a one ounce glass when he could go every day if he wanted to she had never understood, but for tonight she was glad. Somehow drinking shots seemed less pathetic than passing the bottle back and forth.

She'd gone to the Penny after leaving Luke, hoping to find Tracy, or a little liquid comfort. Instead she'd found Gail sitting alone looking like she was plotting a murder. It had seemed wrong to leave her there, and sending her home to the mayhem that was the apartment she shared with Chris and Dov would have been asking for trouble, so Andy helped Gail polish off a pitcher and then loaded them both in the back of a cab.

“I hate my mother.” Gail said kicking off her shoes and reaching for the tequila.

“Luke slept with Jo.” Andy set the shot glasses down and watched dispassionately as Gail spilled a puddle of tequila trying to fill them while her mouth hung open like a carp.

“Wh-what?”

“Yeah.” Andy plucked the bottle from Gail's hand and filled their glasses.

“People suck.”

Andy put down the bottle, and raised her glass in wordless agreement. They clinked glasses before throwing back the shots in tandem. Andy poured them each another.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” Gail asked six shots later. She was sitting cross legged on the floor, her head resting against the couch. The room was spinning.

“No. I don't even want to think about it.” Andy stood in the middle of the room, the half empty bottle of tequila in one hand. She'd abandoned shot glasses and begun drinking straight from the bottle a few minutes earlier. “He had a ring. I mean, who _does_ that?” she ranted with her hands. With each dramatic gesture the tequila sloshed back and forth. “What kind of person gets married because…what? It would be too awkward to tell me the truth?” Andy took a swig from the bottle. “I almost called my _mother_ because of him!”

Gail tilted her head to one side to better focus both her eyes on Andy's face. “If your mother is anything like mine, he should be shot.”

“Your mother would win prizes next to mine.” Andy leaned down and refilled both shot glasses.

“You've never even met my mother.” Gail complained before throwing back both shots in rapid succession.

“I haven't seen my mother since I was fourteen.” Andy countered.

“Lucky.” Gail said, holding up her empty glass to be refilled.

Andy gave her an incredulous look. “That's me, luckiest girl in the world.”

Gail rolled her eyes. “Not if you don't pour me another, you won't be.”

“Oh really?” Andy took a long pull from the bottle, giggling. “What are you going to do about it?”

Gail started to stand, but the room was spinning and she ended up on her ass. “Fuck.” She muttered, “Get over here so I can strangle you.”

“You okay?” Andy asked, or that's what Gail thought she heard through the laughter. Andy set the mostly empty bottle down and reached out one hand to help Gail up.

Gail took the hand and tugged, toppling Andy to the floor. The taller girl cracked her head against the end table beside the couch. She hissed in pain.

“God, Andy,” Gail leaned across Andy’s body, bracing herself with one hand on the carpet. “Are you alright?” There was concern in Gail's voice. She brushed Andy's bangs back, cool, delicate fingers probing the skin. “Does that hurt?”

Andy looked up, startled to find Gail’s face so close to her own. She shook her head slightly.

Gail impulsively pressed her lips against the small red mark on Andy's forehead where flesh had met coffee table. “All better,” she pronounced softly.

Andy raised her hand, laying her fingers tentatively against Gail's cheek. Brown eyes met blue. For a moment neither moved.

Gail drew a deep breath in through her nose. Andy's hair smelled of coconut. She could devour that smell. Her eyes fell closed as she imagined that hair brushing against her skin, falling like a curtain around her face, tickling her abdomen as hot lips blazed a wet trail from sternum to navel. Her heart pounded thickly against her ribs. When Andy's lips brushed hers, soft as a whisper, she thought she'd dreamed it.

Her eyes fluttered open. She licked her lips, they tasted like tequila. Alcohol and lust sang through Gail's veins as she closed the gap between them, brushing her lips against Andy's in a second kiss. Her fingers twined through Andy's impossibly soft brown hair, trapping her close.

Andy cupped Gail’s cheek, angling her face so she could deepen the kiss. She ran the tip of her tongue against the seam of Gail’s lips. Tasting tequila and something else that was specifically Gail. It was funny, she hadn’t even  thought she liked Gail. The blonde was prickly, and mean for sport, but she was undeniably beautiful, and she kissed like that was what she’d been made to do.

Gail opened under her, moaning softly as Andy’s tongue caressed the inside of her mouth. She pressed Andy back against the carpet, nestling one thigh between Andy’s legs, pressing up with just enough pressure to make Andy’s hips tilt against her of their own accord.

Andy responded with a gasp, her eyes falling shut as she rubbed her core against Gail’s firm thigh.

For several moments the only sounds in the apartment was the wet smack of lips meeting and parting, and the almost inaudible rasp of jeans rubbing against each other.

Andy's fingers slipped beneath the hem of Gail's shirt, trailing lightly over her back. They were cool and set off goosebumps all across the blonde's skin. She found and freed the clasp of Gail's bra with ease.

Gail trailed kisses across Andy's jaw and down her neck. She circled the pulse point on Andy's neck with her tongue, relishing the rapid thrumming and the soft exhale of breath that told her she'd found one of Andy's sensitive spots. She sucked the delicate skin into her mouth hard enough to hurt and Andy's fingers dug into her back.

“Fuck,” Andy gasped. Suddenly desperate for more contact she pulled at the hem of Gail's shirt. She needed to feel Gail’s skin, to touch every inch of her, commit her taste and smell to memory.

Gail sat up somewhat awkwardly so she was kneeling, straddling Andy's thigh, and let Andy push her white cotton shirt and the tank top underneath off in a single motion. Her breasts bounced lightly against her chest as they fell free of her white lace bra.

Andy stared at Gail's breasts for a moment before bringing one hand up to cup one creamy mound. Her thumb circled the dusky peak of Gail's nipple experimentally. The flesh tightened under her touch, the nipple hardening into a tight bud. She had never touched another woman’s breasts, and until this moment she had never understood the male fascination with them. Now, with the silky soft warmth under her fingers, she got it. Every movement of her fingers over Gail’s breasts elicited an immediate reaction, the tightening of dusky nipples, tiny hairs leaping to attention, a perfect smattering of goosebumps, the tiniest whimper from the back of Gail’s throat. Andy pinched a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and rolled.

Gail groaned appreciatively as a jolt of pleasure radiated from nipple to core, and reached for the buttons on Andy's shirt. Turnabout was fair play. She freed the buttons one by one, caressing each inch of newly bared flesh as she went. Andy's skin was perfect. Not a single scar or blemish marred her lightly tanned flesh. She wore a simple black cotton bra with a front clasp and Gail couldn't stop herself from leaning forward and tasting her. She ran her tongue along the line of Andy's cleavage as her hands pushed Andy back against the carpet.

Andy's hands released Gail's breasts and tangled in her blonde hair, pulling Gail's head firmly against her chest. She rocked against Gail’s thigh, still positioned tightly against Andy’s core, and let her eyes fall shut.

Gail smiled against Andy's skin. She kept her weight braced with one hand on the carpet, but brought the other hand up to cup Andy's breast over the fabric of her bra before reaching to undo the fastenings, tracing the newly exposed flesh with her tongue and teeth, leaving vivid white impressions that disappeared a split second later. Andy shifted restlessly under her, gripping Gail’s head more tightly as if to urge her onward. Gail retaliated by biting just a little too hard at the soft side of Andy’s left breast. She wanted to leave a mark. Something that would sting the next morning, a constant reminder that this had happened, even though the tiny bit of her brain that hadn’t succumbed to tequila and lust knew neither of them would want to admit it had come morning.

There was an awkward moment when Andy tried to flip Gail over so she could take control and they ended up on their sides, sandwiched between the couch and the coffee table. Giggling, Gail pressed a soft kiss against Andy’s lips and rose awkwardly to her feet. She reached out a hand to Andy and then they were both on their feet, lips fused together once again.

Gail slipped her hands into Andy’s back pockets and pulled their hips together. Their breasts brushed, sending shivers of sensation down her spine. The room spun, but Gail couldn’t tell if that was the tequila or oxygen deprivation. She’d forgotten to breathe. They broke apart, both gasping. Gail bit lightly at Andy’s clavicle as the other girl used her free hands to slip out of her already unfastened shirt and bra.

Suddenly Gail took a step back, breaking contact. Blue eyes searched brown for a silent moment before Gail asked, “Are you sure?”

Andy nodded, reaching out and hooking one finger in Gail’s belt loop. Her eyes drifted down to the soft mounds of Gail’s breasts and before Gail could move or say anything else, Andy was leaning forward and drawing one peaked nipple between her lips.

The brunette’s inexperience was clear, from the slightly too sharp nip of her teeth, to the slightly glazed look in her dark eyes when they flicked up to Gail’s face for approval, but Gail wasn’t complaining. She wasn’t much more experienced than Andy. Two desperate gropes in the girl’s cloakroom in high school hardly counted as anything but experimentation. She groaned appreciatively and tangled one hand in Andy’s hair, pulling the other woman up for a searing kiss before turning her fingers to Andy’s fly and then her own, suddenly desperate to feel more skin on skin contact.

“Bedroom?” Andy gasped, half question, half demand.

Gail allowed herself to be led to a half open door which revealed a tiny room she guessed was what passed as a guest room. There was a tiny cot along one wall and a row of cardboard boxes and orange crates filled with miscellaneous cords and pieces of paper lining another, leaving a narrow path of off white carpet between them which ended as a shabby night stand decorated with a bare-bulbed lamp. If she were blunt, it felt more like a storage closet than a bedroom, but then Andy kicked the door shut and wiggled out of her jeans and Gail didn’t care about the lack of shade over the lamp, or the close quarters.

Shedding her own pants as quickly as possible, Gail pushed Andy back against the faded patchwork quilt and dropped to her knees on the bare patch of carpet.

Andy propped herself up on her elbows, brow wrinkled in beautiful confusion, but when Gail smiled wickedly up at her before dropping her mouth to press a wet kiss against the inside of Andy’s left knee, she let her legs fall apart to give the blonde better access.

Blue eyes locked with brown as Gail slid her tongue slowly up Andy’s thigh. She stopped just short of Andy’s panties, transferring her attention to the other side.

Andy squirmed. Half of her was terrified of what she knew was coming. She had never let anyone go down on her before. Frankly, it had always seemed kind of… gross.  But there was something mesmerizing about the dart of Gail’s pink tongue, and the way her eyes were so dilated with lust the blue was a nearly invisible outline around her pupils. Still, when Gail trailed two fingers lightly over Andy’s cunt, separated from flesh by the thin cotton of her serviceable work underwear (wearing anything but simple black underwear to work had always seemed like a terrible idea to Andy so her lingerie wardrobe was fairly dismal these days), she was surprised at the involuntary buck of her hips. She wanted more. Specifically, she wanted the hot wet pressure of Gail’s questing tongue against her throbbing clit.

 She didn’t have to wait long. Gail used her fingers first, dipping under Andy’s panties to plunge into the wetness of her cunt. She chuckled against Andy’s thigh and but down hard enough Andy knew she would probably have a mark in the morning. Yet the sharp pain of the bit was perfectly timed with a swift circle of Gail’s thumb over her clit and Andy’s brain registered both sensations as pleasure. She cried out wordlessly and thrust against Gail’s fingers.

Gail hooked two fingers on each hand into Andy’s panties and tugged them down. Not off,  just far enough down to give her mouth and fingers free access. With one hand she spread Andy’s flesh, parting the neatly trimmed hairs and exposing her throbbing center. The first tough of her tongue nearly sent Andy off the end of the bed but soon they had built a rhythm, the lapping of Gail’s tongue matching the thrust of two fingers into Andy’s cunt until Andy was crying out and clenching around Gail in orgasm.

When Andy’s muscles uncoiled, leaving her completely blissed out on sex and tequila, Gail climbed up beside her, her body pressed into Andy’s side. She pressed a sloppy kiss into Andy’s shoulder and muttered, “I’d like to see Luke Callaghan do _that_.”

Andy burst into a fit of giggles that made it hard to breathe, let alone be embarrassed. It was perfect.

*

The sun was too bright. “Who the fuck left the curtains open?” Gail grumbled, burying her face into the warm body she had been using as a pillow.

The body stiffened and pulled slightly away and suddenly Gail remembered where she was. She forced her dry, bleary eyes open and was met with Andy’s panicked face. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s fine Andy, don’t sweat it.  I promise I won’t fall hopelessly in love with you. This was just some good, tension relieving fun.”

It was a speech Gail was more used to giving than she liked to admit, even to herself. The last few years had been filled with more one night stands than she was willing to admit to anyone besides her gynecologist. Sometimes she thought she was destined to be alone forever, whoring her way through the entire straight male population of the GTA. She supposed it wasn’t all that surprising she now seemed to be moving on to the female population as well.

Mother would be so proud.


End file.
